


Bound

by Paranoxx



Category: Bulma - Fandom, Dragon Ball, Vegebul - Fandom, Vegeta - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Intimacy, Light Bondage, Romance, Weirdness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-26
Updated: 2020-02-26
Packaged: 2021-02-22 10:50:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22915039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paranoxx/pseuds/Paranoxx
Summary: Fall asleep in the GR. Your wife is an engineering genius. I've always wanted to see what you look like with your armour open.  And when you are chained to the floor.
Relationships: Bulma Briefs/Vegeta
Comments: 13
Kudos: 38





	Bound

Bound  
Finding Vegeta asleep on the floor of the GR was like finding money in the back pocket of your jeans. Except that this was way hotter and far more welcome of a surprise. Bulma stood over him, taking in the details of his face. He looked so young when he slept, all the tension that comprised his usual expression relaxed into a sort of innocence that she found exceptionally attractive. He was turned on his side, his cheek plumped where it rested on the bulge of his upper arm. His hair had fallen from its typical upright position and was caught in the fingers of his white glove. She smiled at him. It was endearing. Sexy.  
Bulma watched her husband sleep. He hadn’t come to bed and finding him like this wasn’t exactly a shock. She often went to bed without him, but she never liked it. If she were to leave him where he was, Vegeta would eventually get up and come to the bedroom they shared, climb into bed and silently wrap himself around her. She’d wake up in the morning with a Prince nestled against her body and sable tail around her waist.  
Bulma didn’t want to wait.  
She went back to her lab on quiet, bare feet and returned to the GR with an invention she had made for a very specific purpose. She’d been researching ki energy for a long time. It was a hard thing to get a grip on considering the fact that she could not produce it herself. Humans could use ki. Krillin could use it, as could Roshi and Yamcha but Bulma herself could not. It had taken a great deal of work to find a way to use her tech to manipulate ki and she found that she could only do it in a limited way.  
She could not make a machine that could replicate the ki her friends used (she’d tried to create weapons for the war against Majin Buu) but she had managed to find a way to nullify it, if only on a small scale. In typical Bulma style, she had fashioned her tech into a thing that she thought would benefit them all and also be fun to play with.  
It was this creation that she brought back with her to the GR. She fully intended to take advantage of the vulnerability of her sleeping Saiyan husband.  
Vegeta sighed when she kissed his neck. Even asleep he could smell her, and it wasn’t a scent his unconscious brain associated with any kind of danger. He was exhausted. Training for 15 hours in 400x gravity had sapped even his physical resources; leaving him to finally turn the GR off and fall out on the floor. He’d been there for hours, missing an excellent dinner made by Panchi.  
Now his wife stretched out on the floor beside him and drew the tip of her tongue along the grove that delineated the tendon on the side of his neck, planting a kiss on the underside of his sharply defined jaw. The Saiyan Prince would never let her touch him like this in public. He would shy away from something as small as a hand on his shoulder but there was nothing he wouldn’t let her do in private. Bulma was not afraid of being blasted into oblivion. Not too much, anyway.  
Vegeta tilted his head, stretching his neck and giving her more of his skin to taste. Bulma took advantage of it, running her tongue from the line of his collar bone to the place just behind his ear that she knew to be one of the most sensitive places on his gorgeous body.  
The feeling of a warm, wet tongue roaming the shell of his ear woke the Prince. He let himself shiver but didn’t open his eyes. The floor of the GR was hard under him, so he knew exactly where he was and the scent of the Woman touching him gave him the safety of knowing who it was lying next to him. The heat of her body, along with her breath in his outstandingly sensitive ear was a perfect way to wake up. Bulma drew his earlobe in between her teeth and bit lightly, her hand coming up to spread in his hair. Her other hand went lower. And then lower still.  
Vegeta took a deep breath and at the same time stock of his body. He was being fondled by a gentle hand, his ear was being carefully abused and his hair was being pulled. He rolled over onto his back and was glad that he was married.  
Knowing that there was a woman who wanted him the way his wife did was something that Vegeta couldn’t put a price tag on. He loved her and worshipped her body basically daily but it never ceased to amaze him that she seemed to feel the same way about him. He couldn’t get enough of the way she touched him. Endlessly inventive. His precious little pervert.  
Bulma ran a delicate hand up one of his arms, lifting it above his head. Vegeta let her move him, most of his mind focused on the way her tongue felt in his ear. He paid the same amount of no attention to the way she moved his other hand when she wrapped her fingers around the wrist of his glove and pushed it over his head. And then he felt something clamp down on both wrists.  
“Woman? What the hell?” he said, opening his eyes and pulling his head away from her.  
Bulma sat up and the smile on her face made Vegeta’s eyes go wide. He pulled his arms down and found resistance. She had bound him. The Prince tilted his face upward to look at his hands. What he saw gave the great Prince pause.  
There were cuffs on his wrists; glowing with the same golden light that he was covered with when he let his aura out. Vegeta turned to face Bulma and found his wife searching his face with an expectancy that he wasn’t sure he liked.  
“Don’t move, Prince,” she said, moving to straddle his lap, “I’m in charge now.”  
Vegeta pulled against the cuffs holding him and heard the sound of metal rending. He looked back at his wife and she was still smiling.  
“Don’t do that, lover. You’ll break your favourite toy,” Bulma said. She ran a finger over Vegeta’s nose, tracing the line of his lips.  
Vegeta let his head rest back on the floor of the GR and regarded his wife. The blue haired woman sat on his legs looking rather smug and very hot. Her sapphire eyes sparked. Her cheeks had a bit of a blush and she had left her azure hair in the kind of mess he loved to see her in.  
Vegeta tried to move his arms; he wanted to touch his wife. Whatever she’d put around his wrists had the feeling of ki energy but none of the life that usually went with it. When he pulled against the cuffs, he felt the floor of the GR resist. It would take a bit of his strength to pull himself loose and would also rip the machine he prized apart. Clever woman.  
“You’ve perfected your ki tech?” he asked in a low voice, black eyes moving over the way that her scanty sleeping clothes fell open in the front. Bulma saw this and leaned forward, letting valley between her breasts rest on his chin for a moment.  
“Let’s call it a test drive,” she replied from above him, shifting her hips to roll against his armour clad lap, “You didn’t come to bed. Again.”  
Vegeta looked around the GR. There were a few destroyed bots here and there but none of his more common signs of chaos. Blood, burning bits of things that used to be important...Bulma wouldn’t be angry enough over that to punish him. He smiled at the idea that she had something else in mind. His wife may be about to make him pay for falling asleep someplace other than their bed but this time he didn’t think his sentence would consist of two nights sleeping alone on the roof.  
It was a turn on to wake up to a mischievous, blue haired nymph molesting him and Vegeta pressed his hips up in a way that lifted her off the floor to prove that point.  
Bulma moved. Her plump mouth now making a tortuous line from his hair line to his jaw and then down the side of his neck.  
“You are gorgeous, you know. But, Vegeta, you are also salty and you stink,” she murmured against his skin. Vegeta shivered, arms tensing again in an attempt to grab her. Bulma felt him try to move and then the conscious restraint he employed to stop himself from ripping a hole in the floor of the GR. She bit the tendon in his neck, her hands pressing down on his biceps.  
It gave her the greatest amount of personal pleasure to know that her husband was strong enough to quite literally end a world but would reign his nature in just to cater to her whims. No other woman on the planet, or in the galaxy, had a husband such as she. Vegeta was an asshole and a vain, arrogant alien. He was cruel; disdainful of any attempt from anyone to befriend him or show him the slightest kindness. He was cold. Unemotional. Hard.  
To everyone but his wife. None of those obvious character flaws bothered Bulma anymore. He trusted her with the other side of himself. When they were alone Vegeta was the exact opposite of the man he showed to everyone else. It had taken time for her to get used to the way he was but after years together Bulma still found that she loved everything about him.  
He said nothing as she licked the salty taste from his throat, nor did he even object to being called stinky, which usually pissed him off. Bulma loved the way he smelled whether it after a hot shower or an equally hot training session. She especially loved the way her smelled when he was aroused. Saiyans, it seemed, had stronger musk glands than human men and it was that smell that rose from him while she used her tongue to trace the lines of his neck.  
He was silent but not as relaxed as he made himself out to be. The muscles in his arms were tense, the lines of his throat stood out sharply again his skin and his stomach went flat with the effort it took to keep from moving.  
She lifted up again to look at his face. Her husband was absolutely the most beautiful man she’d ever seen. His winged brows that could appear menacing or simply severe. His deep widows peak that leant such a uniqueness to the shape of his pointed face. His nose was even sharper than the only other full blooded Saiyan that she knew. And his mouth. Bulma leaned over and brushed her lips against his mouth. When he wasn’t holding himself in the aloof posture of a royal, his lips were pink and soft. They would turn a deeper shade of rose when kissed and Bulma wanted to see that.  
Vegeta opened his eyes, looking at the wild woman who was seeking access to his mouth. He couldn’t move his arms, but he could lift his head to split her lips open and suck on her tongue. That feeling made his wife gasp. It also made her shift the negligible weight of her small body backward to rest on the hardness hidden inside his skintight armour. That gave him a thought.  
He kissed her until Bulma turned her face to the side to take a breath. If she could play, so could he.  
“Turn the GR back on and set it at 5x gravity,” he said, lying flat again.  
Bulma drew her brows in, unsure.  
“If you are going to keep me tied down, I want to feel your weight on top of me,” he continued, lifting his hips and bouncing her. Bulma looked down and then laughed. She pressed her hands on his chest and stood up to do as he’d asked. She figured she could take 5x the gravity of her own planet.  
Vegeta watched his wife walk to the control panel and set the controls. The moment she pressed the button her knees buckled, and she had to grab the counter to keep herself from falling over. Bulma used both hands to haul her body back into an upright position and glared at the man she’d ki-chained to the floor. He was laughing without constraint. Her first inclination was to be angry. He’d known how hard it would be for her but on second thought... hearing him laugh was worth a little humiliation. Plus, he was the one still strapped to the floor.  
It was hard for Bulma to traverse the distance between the panel and her chained mate. He watched her every step, his black eyes shining. She made herself stand straight and took careful steps. Vegeta trained at 400x gravity or more every day. Bulma could not swallow her pride to let herself admit that even 5x was too much for her. By the satisfied look on the Prince’s face, he knew that and was amused by how hard it was for her. He was going to pay for his little prank.  
Bulma reached him and let herself collapse back on top of Vegeta.  
“Dick!” she exclaimed. The gravity pulled her down and her open legs pressed her harder over his lap from her straddled position. She cursed (and adored) the fact that she had married a man smart enough to thwart even her huge intellect.  
“Dick,” Vegeta repeated, lifting her for the second time and showing her at the same time that 5x gravity was less than nothing for him.  
Bulma laid down on his chest, breathing in his scent and rubbing her face against the defined muscles of his Saiyan body. She could feel how much she was affecting him by the hard length of reaction that was obvious under the tight material over the lower belly of his armour.  
It was the smirk on his handsome face that gave her the strength to lift herself up from his chest, knowing that her weight would concentrate itself to the lowest point. She had never felt so heavy, but she knew Vegeta had never felt her press so hard on top of him either. He seemed to be rather taken by the feeling.  
When she sat up, she watched him. The Saiyan Prince’s arms were tethered to the ki cuffs over his head. His chest heaved in the blue material of his sub-armour and the look on his face was murderous. He’d discarded his breastplate about the same time that he had left the last smoking bot on the floor, not wanting to try to sleep in the rigid thing. That was good for his wife.  
Bulma held herself over Vegeta, looking into the dangerously glittering eyes. The bulge under her was enough of a turn on to give her the courage to run her hand over it, caressing the shape inside the dark blue material. She would never stop being astonished at the shape of him, absolutely inhuman. All the Gods be praised.  
“Release me!” Vegeta demanded urgently, balling his trapped fists, his body bowing under his wife.  
“No,” Bulma responded. She could hear the sound of the metal of the floor trying to hold her Prince and ignored it. He was trying to free himself, but she knew that he wouldn’t break the GR. In doing so, he would have to hurt her and that was something Vegeta would never do. Nor would he hurt his precious training room. The second love of his life.  
The small human woman pulled the material of Vegeta’s blue armour away from the column of his thick neck and used dexterous fingers to separate the joining in the two sides. The neck of his outfit split. Bulma grinned.  
She’d made the amour for him and knew exactly how to open it. There was a seam in the center that he used the open and close his sub-amour. Once she had it open it was just a matter of using her fingers to part it. Vegeta gasped when she touched his naked chest, the fists in his white gloves making the sound of leather clad frustration while he tried not to break his bonds.  
Bulma looked down at him, still straining against the pull of the GR. He laid flat; the peak of his pointed midnight hair spread around his face. His lips were plump with the pink she'd brought to his mouth, mirrored by the blush on his high cheeks. Behind her back, Bulma felt him lift a knee to press her forward. Her cool hands slid into his open armour and over the muscled expanse of his wide chest.  
She pushed down and lifted herself again. Bulma pulled the seam open further, baring him to the slender curve of his waist. She pushed the two sides of the fabric out of her way so she could see him. First, the full bulges that comprised his pectorals and the arches of his collar bones that led her eyes to the round mountains that were his shoulders. She ran her fingers down to the washboard of his abdomen and was rewarded by an anticipatory breath. He closed his eyes.  
She made him wait, tracing the ridged shape of his rib cage inside his clothes. Vegeta was sensitive there, ticklish and she made the most of that vulnerable place to make him shiver. It made her tighten inside.  
Vegeta laid as still as he could, eyes closed. The weight of his wife as satisfying as the effort it was costing her to move in the gravity of the room. She knew exactly where to touch him and how to do it. She would tire and when she did, she would release him. Vegeta had his revenge planned; he could wait. In the meantime, he would enjoy what she was doing. He took pleasure in the fact that he knew she was enjoying him. He loved the way the small human woman worshipped his body. If she thought she was using him; so be it. It was always better when he let Bulma think she was getting her way.  
Bulma couldn’t stop her hands from ranging lower inside his open armour. She found the tight curve of his waist extremely attractive, the way her hands could shape themselves around it. He was so slender, almost feminine in a way that as anything but that. Bulma licked her lips, focusing on the dark line of fine black hair that led from his ‘T’ shaped navel downward, a trail that led to another of the treasures of a princely Saiyan physique. He had deep groves on either side of his lower belly, the obliques, a thing she’d never seen on a human man and that she valued on her alien husband. Just another part that made him so much better than perfect.  
Vegeta concentrated. His long sable tail wasn’t the only part of his body that was prehensile. His penis was trapped inside his armour, pressed upward against his belly so he could hold it with his tail when the thing was wrapped around his waist. At the moment, in his current position, the length rested against his stomach with the tip just under the exposed dip of his navel. He tightened his back and used his legs to push his wife up. He felt the tip of his erection emerge from the open waist of his dark blue clothing; he wanted Bulma to be able to see it.  
She felt it before she saw it. He pumped blood into his lower body, moving himself up between the spread her pale thighs. The woman looked down and saw the smooth, hot, blunt tip of a lusty cock appear. At the same time Vegeta wrapped his tail around his wife’s throat, just enough to hold her possessively but not enough to hurt her. He opened his eyes and in the depth of onyx Bulma recognized his capitulation. He’d offered her his body. The great Prince let her see how she affected him and would let her do what she wanted with him.  
Vegeta could have torn himself loose from the confines of the cuffs at any time. It would have harmed his precious GR, but he could have done it. He didn’t. He let her touch him. He let her basically torture him. He let her play with him. He stayed still and let her take charge because he loved her. The sound of her heart pounding under those exquisite breasts was worth the wait. He knew he would get her eventually. Bulma wasn’t exactly one to deny what she wanted for long. No matter how long she played her games Vegeta knew she would beg for a thorough fucking in the fullness of time. He would take her teasing until her blood was hot enough to override her overactive brain. Knowing that made it possible not to rip the metal floor apart and rush to follow natures path into the sadistic depths of his blue haired wife.  
Bulma was enjoying herself. The very fetching sight of a half undressed Vegeta, the deep blue of his armour open to the waist could have made any woman lose her shit. Her own body seemed to become acclimated to the gravity and she was able to sit up and explore his curves and valleys inside the opening of his suit more easily. Whether he was doing it on purpose or not, the support of his raised leg behind her helped. She ran her fingers over the planes of his body, hot and hard with his natural strength. She smiled at the blush that spread from his cheeks to his neck and then down over his chest. That smiled turned into a grin when the Prince, eyes closed, began to make the purring sound that only a huge predatory cat could hope to rival. She had long ago decided that it must be a Saiyan thing; though she had never heard Goku rumble with the deep, sustained hum that Vegeta made when he was aroused. He did love to be petted.  
And he had relaxed. His gloved hands were no longer fisted and his thick arms had lost their tension. It meant one thing conclusively. The Prince had resigned himself to enduring whatever she had planned for him and he had decided on what he would do to her when she finally freed him. That thought brought a vibrating spasm to her insides with a rush a warm wetness. Vegeta drew in a deep breath. His black eyes opened, watching her again.  
“I can smell you, Woman,” he said in a low, even voice, “You want me. Badly.” His body beneath her heated up as though he was fevered. She watched the glow spread over his skin, watched it surround him with a faint golden glow that matched the light powering the cuffs.  
Vegeta rarely let his aura show itself when he was with Bulma. It was not exactly safe to expose her fragile human form to the kind of power he kept under such harsh control. On special occasions, though…  
His long tail slid down from her throat, trailing between her breasts to touch the ultra-soft skin under them. Bulma loved that, lifting her arms to give him greater access. Such a sensitive place; caressed by the sable of his tail was unbelievably erotic to her. The sight of his barely covered wife, straddling his lap and in such a wanton position was breathtakingly sexy to him. When she pulled the shirt over her head and tossed it aside his purr became a rolling growl.  
Vegeta moved with a swift and violent motion, pushing Bulma forward with a sharp jerk of his knee to her back. She was thrown forward, her arms coming down to keep her from crashing into him. It had the desired effect.  
Vegeta was ready, finding and taking a peach coloured nipple into his mouth the moment she was close enough. He sucked. Hard.  
“Ah…Vegeta…” Bulma moaned. Denied the use of his hands, the Prince used his tail to hold her in place, wrapping the length around her ribcage so she could not draw back. No that she tried. He pulled on the delicate bud viciously, in just the way he knew she loved. Bulma didn’t try to get away. She trusted the strength of his tail to hold her; wrapping one arm around his head to bring his closer. The sounds she made when he switched to the other breast made him harden, made him bite her.  
Vegeta was careful not to let his sharp canine teeth touch the satin flesh but he was also not kind. Bulma had a fetish. Her breasts were so sensitive that she could actually achieve a sort of orgasm when her husband took his time to stimulate her the right way. Vegeta felt disposed to do so.  
Bulma moved from side to side as her level of lust rose to epic proportions. Vegeta knew exactly how hard to suckle, how hard to bite, how hard to wrap his tail around her. She loved the heat of his mouth. His lips were cruel satin, just as was the shock of his hair rubbing against her neck and chin. The lift of his hips under her brought a bloom to the center of her body; she was weeping with wanting him.  
Vegeta buried his face under the curve of one heavy tit, mouth open. It was too much. Bulma sat back, letting her weight settle again on the massive erection still trying to escape from the tight armour he wore. She stared into the shining midnight eyes, bright with desire and triumph and lifted herself up enough to get rid of the bottom part of her clothing.  
Vegeta bit down hard enough to draw blood on his bottom lip. The now naked, blue haired goddess arched her back and held the dip of his waist to rub herself against him. The heat coming from him over-heated her, making her pearl skin turn a pretty shade a pink. That, with the sweet scent of her nearly made his either tear his arms free or let his aura explode in a burst of golden fire.  
Bulma could see it. The great Prince of all Saiyans was very near the limit of what he would be willing to put up with.  
Bulma slid backwards. When she pressed backwards, Vegeta lowered his leg to rest flat on the floor of the GR, giving her room. The bottom part of his sub-armour opened the same way that the top did. Vegeta, as usual, wore nothing underneath it so when she pulled delicately at the seam the cloth split open from the waist easily. She opened it slowly, just a little at a time while his dark tail lashed the air in needy impatience.  
Vegeta’s whole body was a sculpted beauty. He was a Christmas present from the top to the bottom. Bulma opened her gift with all the relish she would have had if she hadn’t already known how beautiful he was. The neoprene came apart with a whisper revealing the long curve of his cock, the same colour as his lips. The flare of his hips and the massive power of his thighs.  
Bulma looked down at her husband. He laid flat under her, exposed. A stray thought floated through her mind. She should have tried this before. He was utterly delicious this way. He was tethered to the floor of the GR. He had both a slight glow and a bass resonance coming from him. He was still covered in the armour that was so becoming, but also beautifully open to her. His cheeks and lips were blush, eyes bright and shining like volcanic glass. She filed the sight away in the spank bank of sexiest things she had ever seen. There was just something about the way he looked bound and at her mercy... “Bulma,” Vegeta said. Or asked. She couldn’t tell which. Instead of trying to figure out which, Bulma simply lifted herself up and impaled herself on the enticing, irresistible part of her husband that she needed to feel inside her. Completion.  
Vegeta shut his eyes and concentrated his mind on the feeling of his princess sheathing him in wet heat and want and finally! Did she even know how much he wanted her? Did she understand what it did to him when she showed herself in all her human bravery? Could she possibly feel what he felt when she took him?  
“Don’t move,” Vegeta murmured with as much volume as he could muster, “Please.” He could feel every inch of her around him. He wanted more. He curled his tail over her back and brought her down against his chest. Bulma, laid down on top of him, keeping him very deep inside her, her cheek against his chest. She bent her knees, bringing herself even tighter against him. Vegeta pulled at the restraints again, but only for a moment. He pressed his cheek against the top of his wife’s head, moving just enough to rock his cock inside her.  
This was a good feeling. The weight of the small human woman on top of him. The fact that he was still dressed in his armour gave it something extra. He felt himself swell. His cock touched the tiny mouth of her womb, like a kiss and Vegeta bucked against her, hard.  
Bulma wanted that. The size of the Prince. Insistence with which he wanted her. How deep he could reach into her. Bulma rose. She looked down into the pointed face of the captive Prince, squeezing him. She wanted to feel the pressure of his long cock pressing against the barrier inside her vagina.  
“Fuck me.”  
Vegeta swept his tail around to snap it around Bulma’s waist and slammed her down on top of him. The Woman leaned over, her hands splayed over the brace of his ribs, hair in her face. Vegeta planted both booted feet on the floor. He used the cuffs encircling his wrists to give him something to push against. The gravity of the GR made her heavier, as did the hold of his tail, allowing Vegeta to thrust upward into the Woman. She cried out , calling his name without the least shame. Her blue hair flew back and forth. She clawed at his skin.  
When Bulma came Vegeta felt her clench like a vice. He pounded through the tightness of her opening, stretching her in width and depth until he couldn’t hold back any longer. She’d fallen forward. He watched her face contort until they were both spent and limp with the explosion. Bulma lowered herself onto his chest, the material of his sub-amour opening further. A great deal of blue hair spread itself over his neck, damp and soft and smelling like flowers.  
Bulma reached up and ran her thumb over the contact that released the grip of the cuffs from the metal of the floor. Vegeta moved his arms, stretching. After a moment, he bit the tip of his left glove and pulled it off of his hand. It went flying. The right glove followed a moment later.  
His sweaty little wife was still on top of him and he didn’t want her to move. The fullness of her breast spread out over his chest. He loved the feeling of her calves on either side of his thighs. He had always thought it was amazing that they fit together so perfectly. Vegeta was growing soft but Bulma did not lift to dislodge him. She stayed where she was, holding him inside herself. He used his naked hand to lift her chin slightly. He wanted to kiss her. Amazing Woman.  
The taste of the heat that was the Prince always had made Bulma quicken. No one on Earth or off of it could kiss the way he did. Vegeta worshipped her mouth, tasting, touching. Kissing him; being kissed by him; some things only happen in dreams and those things can define desire.


End file.
